


Partners

by Darth_Vulturnus, UndyingSoul98



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Canon? What Canon?, F/M, More drama than action, Multi, No lemons somehow, Pokegirls sorta kinda, Slower plot, The NGE of harem fanfics, Years late crosspost from FF.net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 04:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Vulturnus/pseuds/Darth_Vulturnus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndyingSoul98/pseuds/UndyingSoul98
Summary: "We don't always get to choose our partners. But we have to trust them, all the same." In a world where polygamy and slavery are integral parts of society, good and evil as we know them have no meaning. Two's company, three's a crowd, and a harem is nothing but a load of trouble- so how do we stay true to ourselves when the immoral so quickly becomes the norm?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> US- welp. Third time's the charm. It is with great pleasure that I announce we have committed the greatest of taboo- actually writing a serious, Pokegirls harem story. But this isn’t exactly a new thing. In fact, this story has already actually been posted on Fanfiction.net. In other words… we finally got off our asses and decided to crosspost this.
> 
> DV- Hello readers, you can call me by the fanfiction nom de plume of Darth-Vulturnus. I’m the secondary author, primary editor and original idea generator for this work. US and I have known each other for a number of years and this work was originally published on FF.net in March of 2017, after...what, like a year of brainstorming and throwing things at the wall?
> 
> US- something like that. Anyhow, to cut a long digression short, while already written, we’ll update here around once a week. Well, that's the goal anyway. We’re technically already three ‘arcs’ in, but we hope that you enjoy the story nevertheless. Critique is always appreciated, and so is discussion, and we should hopefully get up to speed here (Eventually. Hey. That’s what you get from a Master Procrastinator like myself). So yeah- welcome to Partners. The Pokegirls SI story you probably didn’t know you never wanted. Hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> Disclaimer: We’ll do it once and leave it at that. We own nothing. El zilcho. Pokemon isn’t ours, nor is the Pokegirls concept. Our characters are ours, and our universe diverges so much it might as well be original too.

* * *

 

**_Prologue: Thought Exercise_ **

 

**Undying Soul98 has entered the chat**

 

**US- Online now. Feel free to join me at any time.**

 

The screen was clear, save for those two lines of text. So far Undying Soul was the first of the two to be online, as he often was. It wouldn't take long now for his regular correspondent to arrive, complete with oversized ego, to appear. He was never online more than five minutes later than he was, once the first message was sent.

 

Undying Soul hated to wait- he'd inherited far too little patience for that, but he forced himself to sit still irregardless. They lived halfway across the world from each other. A delay _was_ to be expected. If only he didn't have to be online so late though due to the time difference.

 

**Darth-Vulturnus has entered the chat**

 

**US- 'sup, DV? Finally here? Long time no see. How's life for you? As overworked as ever? You know what they say about Med Students… only one step away from needing said meds due to the stress ;) Seriously though, how're things going for you?**

 

Darth Vulturnus rolled his eyes as he read his copilots message, but was struck by his chronic need to have the last word. It wasn't something he was proud of, and had gotten him in trouble in the past, but this was the Internet, so what could possibly go wrong?

 

**DV- Don't get too cocky there, Mr. Comp Sci. Your folly will be forever remembered in our hearts when you have trouble getting a job 'cause you weren't class valedictorian. Regardless, things have been okay, but quite busy lately, glad to be back.**

 

**US- Tell me about it. Being Uni Student is being Suffering? I for one welcome this weekly chat and writing session. Admittedly we don't actually get much** **_writing_ ** **done, but it's fun nonetheless.**

 

At this point in time, Undying Soul sometimes wondered if they'd _ever_ get round to writing anything longer than 500 words, but he didn't really mind too much. He was here now more for the company. In his words, "The company was worth it".

 

**DV- Hey, well we need to start somewhere. I've seen those fanfictions where the writer doesn't plan and prints right when they're done. I have no intention of writing trash like that. I don't want to be hailed as the next Stephanie Meyer.**

 

**US- eh, better the next Twilight than the next Fifty Shades of Grey. One's terrible, but the other is** ** _fanfiction_** **of the terrible. That's like doubly shit. At that point it become** ** _recursive_** **word vomit.**

 

Darth Vulturnus had to concede that point. At least Twilight tried to be original, no matter how bad the final product was. Fifty Shades of Gray was literally mainstream written porn about teen trash fiction.

 

**DV- Recursive logic? Okay, computer science guy, chill. I didn't change out of computer science to deal with those terms again. But really, did you have any preferences on what to work on today?**

 

**US- welp, last time we mentioned that if we were gonna collab then it would be for a fandom we both get really well. Y'know, something like** **_Pokemon_ ** **.**

 

Yes, Pokemon seemed like a fairly safe topic of discussion. It was a rare sight to find someone whose childhood didn't consist of Pikachus and Charmanders. Undying Soul had always enjoyed the games, and kept fairly up to date with the series. He wasn't a fanatic, and he hadn't been able to chant the Pokerap since he was 12, but he was no blustering noob. Plus, he was pretty sure that Darth had played the games too.

 

**DV- Fair enough. Pokemon will never die, so at least there's a fandom for it.**

**But yeah. Pokemon sounds neat, dontcha agree?**

 

Pokemon. It had been quite some time since Darth Vulturnus actively played Pokemon, not that his knowledge was any less for the taking from it. As far as he had played at any rate.

 

**DV- Pokemon sounds good, but I should remind you that the last gen I own is Platinum, gen 4. So I don't know all this fancy "Fairy" type and crap.**

 

**US- No need to act so Draconian on the matter, purely because I dare speak of your one weakness- cuteness!**

… **and yes, I know the joke goes over your head due to being a Pre-Gen 5 loser, but** **_I_ ** **thought it was funny.**

 

Darth rolled his eyes again. Undying had a terrible habit of blatantly referencing things only he'd ever understand, and would then mercilessly judge everyone else for _not_ having the same tastes in anime or games.

 

**US- I can work with your blatant lack of gen 5 onwards knowledge though. Maybe we could consider working with a spin off instead then? I mean, I'm sick to death of normal Poke fics. And it's not like there isn't a tonne of stuff to chose from. MD?**

 

It took Darth a few moments to understand what his friend was referring to with his obscure two letter abbreviation. Then it hit him. Mystery Dungeon. He hadn't heard that title's name in a long time.

 

**DV- Tch. Go find someone else to put up with you if that's how it's going to be. But Mystery Dungeon? ...If you want. You'd have to take point. I haven't played MD since Blue Rescue Team in '06. So, you know, eons ago when the stars were young.**

 

**US- BURN THE HERETIC! CLEANSE THE BLOODLINE! EXPLORERS KICKED ASS!**

 

Undying had already posted the all caps lock message before he even had a chance to second guess himself- his typical haste in action. Then he realised that it was a fairly pointless remark and that he was going off on a tangent (For an admittedly _very_ good game), and rapidly prepared his next message before Darth would get chance to reply himself and no doubt escalate the situation.

 

Again.

 

**US- *Clears throat*. Uhum. All fanboying aside, mayhaps MD should be shelved too. Excuse my french, but Fuck That Taking Point Shit. Too lazy to have to do** **_everything_ ** **myself. Next idea. Fangames? Might be fun to play with Pokemon Reborn?**

 

He'd never read a fanfic based on any of the fangames. While not canon, many were rather good, and Undying had to admit that the premise was at least rather unique, if niche.

 

**DV- Wat. Never heard of it. If you want to get really old school with Pokemon variants, ever heard of Pokegirls? I don't think that site has been updated since the mid 2000s, but it's still pretty cool, at least conceptually.**

 

Sure, it was an old concept, the sites pretty much abandoned in terms of updates, but there were the occasional fanfics for it, almost always featuring the shonen anime protagonists. ...Usually Naruto.

 

**US- Pokegirls… Pokegirls… I've** **_heard_ ** **of it before. More accurately, I think I've seen fanart. Can't say I know much about it, but I'm fairly sure it's just Pokemon with bewbs. Sounds pretty dumb, really.**

 

So no, the idea didn't appeal to Undying. Felt too much like Shameless Fanservice, and an excuse for the Poke-fetishists to get creative. He'd never had an interest in reading a story about humanoid Pokemon. If he _really_ wanted to read a tale about cute girls firing off elemental attacks and beating the shit out of each other, there were a dozen _actual_ harem manga that would tide him in over.

 

In short, Undying Soul never had and never would take an interest in writing a Pokegirls story.

 

**DV- Well, okay then. But really, harem story without Rule of Funny enforced to make all our encounters painful! Still, I see your point. Hmm…**

 

Darth felt, though he wasn't wedded to the idea, that he could get into a Pokegirls story if he really tried, and felt obligated to mention it to at least, if for nothing more than exploring all options. It certainly wasn't the best option, but at least not quite as cliche as normal Pokemon. It would give the readers a different kind of rubbish to the usual trash.

 

**US- Harems in anime are generally ridiculous, and would be just as silly in real life. Give me a monogamous relationship any day of the week. I would be rather uncomfortable writing a harem story too. Next idea plz?**

 

And so discussion continued. For the next hour or so, messages were sent back and forth, scathing comments traded, and ideas debated. As expected, neither writer could come to an agreement on what sort of story they wanted to write together. Again.

 

In the end they both logged off, having made no progress, but slightly happier from the experience. However, both authors couldn't help but think back to the conversation they had. They knew next time they'd move onto another topic and likely never return to the discussed ideas, but couldn't help consider them one last time.

 

One idea in particular stuck out in both of their minds, though for very different reasons.

"I must admit," both writers said aloud, little realising they were both echoing the same sympathy at the same time, "living in the Pokegirls world would have to be…"

 

"Rather dumb/Utterly terrifying."

**Darth Vulturnus POV**

 

If you had a dream so real that you no longer could tell reality from the dream, is the dream not reality?

 

So said Morpheus...approximately, in The Matrix. But the semantics aren't important in that sense.

 

"Vitals stable."

 

Am I in a hospital? I certainly don't feel uncomfortable. Not like I'm lying on the street. I...can't remember though. My mind is a blur. Why would I be in a hospital? How did I get here? What was my last thought?

 

As I clench my hand, I hear the voice again, "Movement, he should wake up soon."

 

Female. Younger, but still adult. Unfamiliar. Must be the nurse.

 

Quickly forcing my eyes open and immediately squinting and turning away in pain at the bright lights, I internally curse my hasty decision.

 

As I slowly let myself adjust to sudden light again, I catch a glimpse of the nurse currently attending to me. She's wearing one of those nurse uniforms people wear for Halloween and she has pink hair. Pink hair? What hospital let's nurses dye their hair? Seriously. Is this even a real hospital?

 

"Hi?"

 

It's only then that she turns away from her clipboard to notice I'm awake. I'll hesitate to call her a scatterbrain, but seriously, she must be new.

 

"Ah! You're awake! That's good!"

 

Please no. Why? I have a headache, and am really not up for blatant cheer. I don't like excitable people very much. And I'm not feeling super charitable right now. Not while I have no idea what's going on, where I am, or what even happened.

 

"Being awake _does_ tend to be good when outside an OR, yes."

 

So sue me if I wasn't feeling a tad snarky. Humor is the best medicine anyway...not really, but it helps. It's better than laughing at her ridiculous appearance anyway.

 

Prodding a bit, I ask, "So, which hospital is this? And what even happened to me? It's kinda a blank right now. Last I remember was getting off my computer for the evening."

 

"Oh, right! You'd want to know that! This is Olivine City Hospital! You had a nasty case of hypothermia when we brought you in! But you should be better now! We didn't even have to amputate anything!"

 

Well...that's comforting at any rate, if a bit morbid. And makes sense. It's early spring right now, so I guess I could have done something stupid like go outside at night without a coat and fallen in a cold river. Wouldn't be the first time I've made poor life choices, and it likely won't be the last.

 

Wait...I'm missing something here…

 

No amputations, no, that's not it. Hypothermia, no, that makes sense. Olivine City? Where is that? That name _is_ familiar, but from where? It's not a major city around me, I know….I think at least. This is what I get for being lax on following the news. Seriously though…

 

"That's good. So how long have I been here, when's my estimated release date, and could I have the name of my nurse?"

 

Might as well give it a try. Her outfit and long hairstyle _does_ make her look like one of those fetish cosplay types. ...On the other hand, let's just not go there. She does look kinda familiar though. Kinda like someone stuck an adult Sailor Mini Moon in a cosplay nurse uniform. Huh. Weird. Not the strangest thing I've ever seen, but in a professional environment? She _must_ have slept with the hiring manager. Or maybe she's the director's daughter. Or both.

 

"Okay, so you've only been here about twelve hours, and if you keep showing a normal recovery, you should be free to be released by tomorrow morning!" She winks at me, pink locks bouncing around as she twirls, as she continues, "My name is Joy."

 

Why. Does. She. Have. To. Be. So. Energetic? She's like the damn energizer bunny in human form. Wait...pink uniform, pink hair? OH DEAR GOD! It IS a humanized energizer bunny! Who thought that was a good idea? And who told her flirting with patients was acceptable bedside conduct?

 

Looking outside through the large window, apparently pointed west, the purple and orange rays of sunset assaults my eyes for a moment. Tomorrow morning, huh? I can wait that long. "How are you feeling, young man?"

 

The sudden male voice draws my attention away from the sun. Turning left, I do a quick scan. Button-down and tie? Check. White coat? Check. Clipboard? Check. Stethoscope around the neck? Check. Cliche doctor? All points hit.

 

"Well, all things considered, pretty good. How bad was it?"

 

He glances at his clipboard, frowning, "I'll be honest. It wasn't good. We thought we were going to lose you for a while. If it had been much longer before you were found, I wouldn't be talking to you."

 

I see. Well, the important thing is that I'm still alive. Still, I face...Nurse Joy? An odd name, since Joy tended to be considered an 'old-fashion' name...but also a familiar one. It almost sounded like...well, it was a hilarious coincidence either way. Raising an eyebrow at her, I stare for a moment as she looks down and shuffles her feet. Great, she was just trying to help by staying positive and there I go being an ass again.

 

"Now, young man, your uncle has already signed the papers. He'll be coming to get you tomorrow morning."

 

Huh? My uncle? Why the hell would either of them do that? In fact, why was it an uncle and not someone that made more sense like my actual parents? Hell, even my grandparents are closer, significantly so, if something has made my parents unable to come themselves. This just gets stranger and stranger.

 

Hesitantly, I hedge, "Um, okay. Thanks doc."

 

As the pair leave the room, I lean back and let sleep embrace me once more. I'll deal with this later.

**Undying Soul POV**

 

I didn't know what to think. I'd been in hospital and unconscious for the last week due to apparently falling from a medium-ish height and accidentally cracking my skull open when I hit the floor, and had only just woken up the night before. Sure, I'd had no visitors, and couldn't recognise the hospital, but I hadn't thought anything was _too_ wrong.

 

My family lived far enough away from me that them not being able to reach me was understandable, especially as I don't always keep in touch as much as I should do- so no visitors was expected. And it's not like I had memorised the names of every nearby city and/or hospital.

 

But now that the night had passed and I was finally in a position to get some answers, what I was being told was _not_ okay.

 

"What the hell do you mean I don't exist!?" I yelled at the pink haired nurse who had been sent to deliver me the dire news. She was the nurse that had been there when I awoke, and she was the one who visited to make sure I was still breathing, but that didn't mean I liked her.

 

Nurse Joy was a no nonsense carer who really gave no shits about what her patients did or didn't want. I'd take my medication, whether I wanted to or not. "Exactly what I said- ' Mr White'." she replied, miming quotation marks with her fingers, as if she somehow didn't believe that was my name. "Now, why don't you tell me who you really are."

 

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sorry, but I have no clue what the hell you're talking about. My name is Joseph White, born in London and raised in South Yorkshire. What the hell do you mean with that last comment?"

 

"I'd love to believe you, yet your name doesn't show up on any of our registers."

 

I blinked in confusion. "Wait. Wut."

 

"Nor that of any of the other countries we've sent the name to."

 

"Huh?" Other countries? Why the hell were they sending feelers out to other countries? It shouldn't exactly be difficult to find my name in a register.

 

"Not to mention you must be pulling a prank seeing as the country of origin you named _doesn't_ exist."

 

Disbelieving, I blinked again. "Again. Sorry, but if you'll excuse my French… what the flying _fuck_ do you mean my country of origin doesn't freakin' exist!?"

 

More accurately, I should be pointing at her and accusing her of foul play. Because I didn't know if I'd heard her right or not, but she just said that my birth country, England, part of the UK and consequently one of the most well known nations on planet Earth (if only for our ridiculously bad political decisions), _did not exist._

 

It was like the machine of my mind, which had been chugging along rather cheerfully, had suddenly had a wrench thrown into its inner mechanisms and was seconds away from announcing its Self Destruct Sequence had been activated and was on the verge of exploding into a million tiny little pieces.

 

Fundamentally, what she was suggesting just did not make sense to me. It couldn't, because her words were so unbelievable that I physically couldn't process her words.

 

"What I mean is that both the 'UK' and 'England' does not exist." Joy said with the straightest face imaginable.

 

Upon this confirmation, I just leant back against the bedrest and palmed my face with my hands. " _Yes. Yes, she did just apparently say what I thought she did."_

 

"Are you trolling me? Are you legitimately fucking with me right now, because the joke has gone on long enough." I told her, deathly serious. I like to think I can take a joke, but when I'm sitting in a hospital bed and am being told that I legally do not exist, what was I meant to assume or say?

 

Nurse Joy merely shoved the clipboard she was holding into my face. With a frown, I snatched it off her. A lot of it was technical mumbo jumbo, but the top page contained a profile with all my details I'd given on them. Then, below each filled in line, in full block capitals, were the words that sent a shiver down my spine.

 

DATA NOT RECOGNISED. MATCH CANNOT BE FOUND.

 

"Does that answer your question, 'Mr White."

 

"No, it just tells me you don't know when to kill a joke!" I snap. "I mean really- 'England doesn't exist'. What sort of dumbass do you take me for!" Britain _literally_ had an empire at one point! Sure, the papers say 'No data found' but forms can be faked, and I'm not bureaucrat. How could I tell its validity? "God- I _live_ in England! This hospital is in England! We're speaking _English at this very second,_ for crying out loud."

 

"No. I am sorry to say this, but we really aren't." Joy gave me a pensive look, and took back her clipboard. "However, I see that somehow you believe your claims. I'll pass on your complaints to the relevant authorities." At the door, she turned back to shaking form. "And Mr White? _Don't_ sit there and insult me. I didn't take this job to get shouted at for delivering bad news. Considering how you literally have no records to speak of, you don't seem to be in any position to burn any bridges, and while my news is unpleasant, there is absolutely _no reason_ for you to be a dick about it."

 

And with that, she stormed out of the room, leaving me with my broiling thoughts.

 

"What a nightmare." I hissed. I wasn't mad. England existed. My name was real. Hell, I hadn't left the country in years- I could be in no other country but England.

 

Yet… Nurse Joy, the only point of contact I'd had save for my doctor, did not seem to be mad either. I saw the look on her face at my words. She was as disbelieving of my words as I was to hers. And those forms looked official.

 

DATA NOT RECOGNISED. MATCH CANNOT BE FOUND.

 

I couldn't believe I was wrong, but I couldn't fully accept she was wrong either. Nurses don't get accepted into a hospital as large as this without guarantees on their sanity. So if she was unlikely to be wrong, then did that mean I was…

 

"No." I shook my head. "Not mad."

 

Either way, I couldn't remember the accident that led to me being here, or how I got into it. More than that, I couldn't even be sure I was awake- because this whole mess seemed far too surreal to be grounded in reality.

 

Something was Wrong here. I didn't know what, but something was... off.

  
"How did I end up in Goldenrod Infirmary, and just what the _hell_ is going on here!?"


	2. Unbidden I: Unknowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbidden: un-bid-den, adjective; "unasked, without having been commanded or invited."
> 
> Unknowing: un-know-ing, adjective; "without knowing or unaware."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> US- and thus with the prologue over, we move in into the next stage- the build up. Warning in advance- this plot can be described as a ‘slow, character driven narrative’. This car takes a while to pick up speed; likewise, this fic is designed to be long. So I ask that you be patient. 
> 
> DV- Here lies what could be considered the first ‘real’ chapter, depending mainly on, as like many things in life, your point of view.
> 
> US- so yeah, if it wasn’t clear by the summary, this is a ‘harem setting played straight’. It will be character driven, and hopefully tackle the subject matter of polygamy and fucked up societies in a respectful and relatable way. However, as I said, patience is required. Our characters need some time to… get acquainted… with this new world of theirs.
> 
> DV- Indeed. Like the last parts of the prologue, this story is from now on exclusively told in first person, from either one of the two mains in the overwhelming majority. It should also be noted that what’s happening in each story line is not necessarily concurrent timeline wise to each other.
> 
> US- Oh! And just in case anyone cares, the ‘verse’ we’re using for this fic is a modified version of the original Pokegirls lore, with stronger cues from the original Pokemon story for plot and setting details. Naturally everything is explained in story, so don’t worry if you don’t actually know the lore.
> 
> DV- Kinda a threesome between normal Pokemon, Pokegirls and Moe-mons, if you will. It’s not strict to any of them and is really our own personal blend of elements from each.
> 
> US- And as a reminder, this story will be divided into arcs. The first of which will be Unbidden.

* * *

**Darth Vulturnus POV**

 

When I wake up, the sun has risen. I’m surprised I actually managed to sleep that long. Sitting in the chair beside me is a man in a orange suit with immaculately combed back brown hair. Stylish, but almost sleazy in the sense that this man’s wealth was so blatant it was blinding. However, it wasn’t really his attire that caught my attention. If anything, it was the expression on his face that stood out. His eyes were cold, and the way he had been looking at me made me feel like an ant beneath a magnifying glass.

 

Still, I don’t recognize him, and watching someone sleep was rather creepy, “Hello?”

 

He smiles at me, the kind of fatherly smile that’s supposed to be comforting. And it would be...you know, if I knew who the hell he was. Right now it’s just unnerving, because I’ve never seen this man before in my life.

 

“Good Morning Ben.”

 

Huh? I’m not Ben. Does he have me confused with someone else? That’d be just my luck, wouldn’t it? Is it worth attempting to play it out? Risk analysis? Not worth it.

 

“I think you have me conf-” was as far as I get before he walks over to and places a finger over my lips, silencing me. I feel cold metal against my upper ribs and hear the slight click of a handgun hammer as he whispers into my ear, “I was generous enough to save you. If you want to remain amongst the living, go along with it for now.”

 

Well then, seems I’m not getting a choice in the matter. This man had a gun. And he was pointing it at me. Nearby cover? No. Police covering me? No. Well, this...this fucking sucks. Time to wave the white flag. Almost mechanically, I nodded. I didn’t know why he had a gun, why it was pointed at me, or why I felt so numb despite the danger. Still, the gun only made the point clearer. Cooperation is the only option for me until I get things sorted out..

 

Schooling my features, I reply, tone bland, “I understand. Is there anything else you needed from me before I’m released?”

 

Brown-nosing? Totally. I’m sure as hell gonna be as polite as possible to the man _still holding a gun to my chest._ He’s someone in a position where he could easily kill me. I can figure things out later, when I’m not under the threat of imminent death.

 

He only gives a sharp shake of his head as the doctor walks into the room.

 

“Ah,  Mr. Hagen, you’re awake. Good. Luckily your uncle was able to give us your information. As I mentioned yesterday, one last check up and you’re free to leave.”

 

After a brief check of my sensation, movement and the like, the man claiming to be my uncle laid out a set of clothes for me before he and the doctor got up and left the room, discussing...something.

 

All I heard was, “It’s been a long time, Giovanni. Sister’s son I presume?”

 

As I make my way over to the pile left on the chair, I begin to bring together my current information.

 

Fact: As far as I knew, I was in a place named “Olivine City.”

 

Fact: I’ve never visited an Olivine City, nor seen it on the news. The name sounds familiar though.

 

Buttoning up the light blue dress shirt, I look out the window briefly. Looks like a normal city from here. More like Chicago than New York City though, not quite loud enough.

 

Question: Why does Olivine City sound familiar? Or more accurately, why is it not _more_ familiar, considering I ended up here in the hospital?

 

Readjusting the rest of the sharp black suit, that fits too well really, I muse on all these questions. On another note...did they really take my measurements while I was sleeping? What creeps. My poor chastity has been violated. But I’m still alive, and frankly, that’s more important than any qualms I may have otherwise.

 

Running my hands lightly over the felt hat, I take it and walk out of the room, observing my surroundings. As far as I can tell, it seems to be a fairly normal hospital.

 

“Ben!”

 

It takes me a moment to remember that, for all current intents and purposes, that is my operating name currently. My...patron, let’s go with, at this time, Giovanni, places a hand on my shoulder, gently steering me through the halls and out the doors where a limo is waiting.

 

Fact: Giovanni is rich. Rich enough to travel by limo for non-formal occasions. Because I certainly do not count as a formal occasion.

 

As a chauffeur opens the door for us, we slide in, the door closing behind us.

 

Deciding that the only way I might have some control of the conversation is if I start it, I begin, “Well, this is certainly a nice vehicle, Mr....”

 

“Corleone,” he supplies.

 

Corleone? That sounds...oddly familiar. Definitely Italian. I don’t have any Italian friends, so where would I have? A movie? Yes, definitely a movie. Something I’ve watched recently.

 

‘I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.’

 

Ah, yes, that would be it. _The Godfather_. His entire demeanour just screams ‘mobster’. Have I made any deals with the mob recently? Have I done anything to warrant the attention of one of the biggest sharks in the sea? Probably not- I was just as clueless about why he was here as I ever had been.

 

Wait, didn’t the doctor earlier refer to me as “Mr. Hagen?” That’s an amusing coincidence. Thought that’s one too many coincidences to discount. What is going on here? Still, pretending I didn’t realize it yet would probably serve me better.

 

“So, Mr. Corleone, since this is presumably a private environment, why don’t you tell me the truth?”

 

He smirks at me, and just looking at him, it’s an expression far more natural to him than a genuine smile. I’m not sure how to take that, but I’m not going to judge. I’m the same way.

 

“To be honest, you appeared in a flash of light.” I blinked, then rubbed my eyes. Giovanni had just said something absolutely ridiculous, and I didn’t know how to react to it.

 

“It was...odd, and my curiosity was peaked. After all, people don’t just appear in midair like that.”

 

And he’s being serious, isn’t he? This… appearing in a burst of light thing? He’s being _serious_.

 

“Therefore, there must be something special about you, because people _do not_ randomly appear in a burst of light. Well, at least not without a Psychic accompanying them. So I made a decision. It wouldn’t do to let you die when I saw you fall into the bay, so I got my men to fish you out and bring you to this hospital and concocted a story to make sure no one looked too deeply into you.”

 

That was both...helpful...and not. Because he’s right, people don’t randomly appear in light. Still, that doesn’t actually help me identify what happened. And he apparently wants to keep my mystery all for himself. Befitting of someone sharing a name with a famous fictional mob boss. So I’ll deal with my mysterious arrival later, when I’m not so close to someone who casually threatens to kill me if I don’t comply. After all, I’m in no real rush to get home. Not saying I’m not curious, but survival takes priority, and the man I’m sharing a car with is likely far more dangerous than ignorance is  No need to go off half-prepared. I can take my time investigating this, with all the proper security that entails on my end.

 

“Here, I want you to look at this,” he says as he passes over a photo, faded long past its prime, continuing, “Do you recognize this?”

 

I trace out the faded lines, trying to make heads or tails of the thing, especially considering the color has completely washed out in some sectors. Nabbing a pen out of small jar to my right, I slowly trace in between what I can see. Luckily, the biggest clue, four massive turbojets, were still visible.

 

“Huh,” I note in curiosity, “That’s an airplane. A big one given the number of engines I see, but this picture is a tad too faded to make out the exact model.”

 

He nods at me as I hand the image back to him. He leans back, eyeing me, before saying, “I assume you know how to fix one then.”

 

What. The. Fuck. How do you even come up with a conclusion like that! He wants me to fix a _plane_? Where the hell did he get the impression I could do that? Still, that was a statement, not a question. He expected me to be capable of fixing it, and if I couldn’t, he would not be impressed. Hedging my response, I reply, “Well, that depends on my available resources, time and the level of damage that the plane has sustained. I couldn’t really give an honest answer unless I saw it in person.”

 

To be perfectly honest, I know jackshit about repairing planes. Still, bluffing is the best way to get through this alive, especially considering he thinks I do know how. I’m smart, I’m sure I can legitimately figure it if I have enough time. Like...a few years or so, at least. Probably more. Planes, especially modern jet engines, are complicated as fuck.

 

The limo rolled to a stop, not that I can see where given the double-tinted windows. Letting my host get out first, I step out, taking a brief look around.

 

Giovanni smiles at me right before I feel a solid bar of metal connect with the back of my skull.

 

What? What happened? I remember getting out of limo, but what happened afterword?

 

Pushing myself upwards, I feel the soft textures of a fabric recliner and the innate coldness of an ice pack on the back of my head.

 

“Geez, just when I thought things were getting better, I get injured again. This better not become a reoccurring thing. Brain damage is the last thing I need.”

 

A voice approaching draws me from my reverie of personal contemplation, “Does young master require anything today?”

 

Young master? Who is she...wait...Giovanna decided to masquerade me as his nephew before he apparently knocked me unconscious, didn’t he? Looking over at the maid, she looked fairly normal. Well, except for what looked like her hair forming what looked like cat ears, like those you might find in a manga. And the gold thing on her forehead, but I don’t know what the hell that is. I’m not sure I want to know either. Nope. Not going near that with a ten-foot pole. The absolute last thing I need is to become a manga harem protagonist with monster girls. Nope.

 

“Ah, no, I seem to be alright, miss…”

 

It was kinda embarrassing to have to constantly prompt people for names, but hey, not like I’ve got a better option.

 

“Ah, um, ano…”

 

I jumped and my heart skipped a beat as the door slammed open and another girl who looked nearly identical waltzed in, hands on her hips, “Amy! You weren’t supposed to bother him! He’s supposed to sleep!”

 

As if on cue, the girl, Amy, and I give identical looks as if to say, “Well, if I/he wasn’t awake then, I/he certainly is now, you moron.”

 

Amy poked her fingers together shyly, “Um, Sammy, you’re the loud one…”

 

“Tch,” was the response from what must have been one sister to another given the physical similarity, minus the gold thingy, before the nosy one, Samantha, got in my face, declaring, “So _this_ is our cousin, huh? Yeah, he does look quite a bit like Aunt Sherry did before she died.”

 

Well, that’s...convenient. Apparently Giovanni decided to bludgeon me, throw me into a nice room, then let me meet the ‘relatives’. And then they somehow backed up the bullshit story Giovanni was telling. Unnaturally convenient. So much that it almost seems...premeditated.

 

...Now that’s a thought that’ll fester.

 

But hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. Although, perhaps I should have been more worried about getting knocked out, rather than worrying about the likelihood of looking like a member of the family I was trying to masquerade within.

 

She must have noticed me slowly attempting to edge away from her, as she reared back with a very put-upon face, interrogating, “Hey! You’re not afraid of me, are you? Don’t be such a wimp! Idiot!”

 

Oh...she’s that type. Interesting. Well, only one way to nip this in the bud. Standing up, and much to my embarrassment, only standing about an inch taller, I lock eyes with her, my blue eyes contrasting her brown.

 

“Don’t think I’m weak because I don’t intentionally seek out confrontation. No wonder your sister is so afraid of you! Seriously…”

 

There’s a resounding thud as we both attempt to move our heads closer, only to end up bashing foreheads. Could have been worse. Ever tried to get the tsundere type to shut up by kissing them? Even by accident? Doesn’t end well.

 

In the time it took both of us to stagger backward clutching our foreheads in pain, her sister has gotten between us, intent on being peacemaker.

 

“Umm, Sammy, I think you should go...you’re just making things worse.”

 

Giving me one last glare of challenge, which I do my best to return two-fold, she stomps petulantly out of the room, seemingly annoyed at losing a new toy.

 

As the door slams shut even harder than it had been opened, Amy turns to me again, poking her fingers together, “You should rest some more...I’m sorry about Sammy...she hasn’t been the same since her mother was killed a few years ago…”

 

Waving my hand in a non-committal manner, I state, “Don’t make excuses for her. But she’s your half-sister? I suppose that makes a tad more sense given the drastic differences in personality. But seriously, if you’re always making excuses for her, she’ll never learn what constitutes acceptable behavior.”

 

“I...suppose so...but she doesn’t really have anyone else. Father is too busy and we’re the two youngest siblings. Our elder brother and sisters don’t care much or have since moved out. Ah...right! We need to get going!”

 

“Not that I’m complaining,” I begin, “But to where?”

 

She adopts a dreamy look I didn’t think she was capable of as she states, “Father wants you to get started right away. Oh, I always wanted to fly!”

 

**Joseph POV**

 

All through the night, I kept tossing and turning, dark thoughts filling my mind. No matter how much I tried to switch off my mind and shut down, I was unable to.

 

Again and again, I thought back to Nurse Joy and what she told me. That I didn’t exist. That I had no physical or digital records. That I wasn’t even in my home country, and that said country didn’t exist either.

 

Really, it wasn’t even the fact that I didn’t exist that was bothering me. It was more the _consequences_ of these thoughts that were bugging me. If the nurse was right, then that brought in far too many other problems. Without proof of identity, how could I work? How would I pay my hospital bills (Because surely this wasn’t paying for itself)? If I wasn’t in England, then how would I get home?

 

Eventually though, my exhaustion won over and I slipped into the sandman's domain.

 

I didn’t feel much better when I woke up, but at the very least it was a brand new day.

 

When Nurse Joy came back, I intended to ask her some questions. The obvious ones: where was I, what country was I in, surely wasn’t she joking about _everything_ she had said the day before? Because her claims weren’t really possible, right?

 

However, I never had the chance to ask her these, because she didn’t come to me alone. By her side was a girl I’d never met before. She looked older than me, but had youthful features which seemed to carve the years off her and make her face girlier and more innocent. She also looked like she had yet to outgrow her cosplaying habit, what with her bright pink, bubblegum hair, pink and white shirt, and her impossibly short shorts.

 

In her hands she held a large handbag, of a garring salmon hue that matched her hair.

 

“Ummm… hello? Do I know you?” I asked her, scrutinising her further. I had never met her before, certainly not enough for her to be visiting me in hospital, but something about her was still oh-so familiar.

 

“Nope!” She answered cheerfully, drawing out the P at the end. “But by the end of today you will be _very_ glad to know me! Anyway, onto business.” Without another word, she took the visitors chair next to me, dropped her bag down besides her, and wordlessly beckoned Nurse Joy out of the room. With a roll of her eyes, she vacated the room, leaving me alone with the too-perky, too-smiley girl.

 

“What do you mean by-”

 

“Business? I’m here to tell you stuff. Namely, the fact that you do not exist!” She interrupted me, completely cutting me off mid sentence with a very startling statement. What sort of person opens a discussion by telling them they don’t exist? “Let's make your position, really, _really_ clear, okay? Because I think you need to understand just what sort of situation you are in.”

 

_“Well, that was abrupt.”_ This girl, while still smiley had an edge to her. I couldn’t help but feel like she played up that ‘young and innocent’ angle purely to catch people off guard later when she started shouting at them and making ominous statements about their ‘position’.

 

“I was the one who was there when you had your ‘accident’,” said the girl, starting from the beginning. “I was there, and I was ultimately the one who took you here- to this hospital. When you had no identification on you, I was the one who vouched for you. When you woke up and was able to tell us your details, and _all_ the records turned up blank for you, it was _me_ who agreed to foot the bill for you.”

 

I blinked in confusion at the pinkette. She’d paid for me? Hospitals aren’t cheap. At least not in countries without a national health service, but even then the price is steep to an outsider. But she’d apparently been with me from the start and had vouched for me. That led to the question of why this pinkette had done it.

 

“Well… thanks.” I said, nervously scratching the back of my head. “Honestly, knowing that you have footed the bill makes me worried, because there is no such thing as a free lunch, but on the other hand it makes me kinda happy. Umm- you seem to be a good person, I think. You didn’t know me, and I’m a stranger, but you’ve done me a big favour. So thank you.”

 

My words caused the pinkette to falter for a moment, but she didn’t lose her groove for long, and she was back to her perky self in seconds. Her grin had only become wider. “Yup. so, couldn’t one say that you owe me big time for doing this for you?”

 

“You are correct.” I told her. “And I’ll make sure to pay you back for this. Once this whole administrative mess is cleared up and we have all my records, I can get in touch with my bank forward you the money.”

 

“Oh no. I don’t want your money, especially as you likely have none.” She smirked a little, and shook her head. I wanted to protest that in actually I _did_ have a fair bit in the kitty, from my university loan and from my family, but I withheld my argument. I just wanted to listen, now. She wanted something, so it would be best for me to find out sooner rather than later.

 

“Go on,” I encouraged. “What do you want from me.”

 

“Firstly, answers. Just who are you?”

 

I frowned. “I told you. My name is Joseph White, I’m from England and was born in London. I study Computer Science at University level.”

 

“That’s not what I wanted, though it does clarify what I know. Perhaps I should be more specific. How did you get into your accident?”

 

“No idea.” I honestly told her, shrugging my shoulders in a ‘what can you do?’ sort of way. “Last thing I remember I was sitting on my bed, at my laptop. Next thing I know, boom! I’m in hospital, and everyone is treating me like I’m either really dumb or really mad.”

 

“So you remember nothing of the incident itself?” she leaned in, pressing for more.

 

“Nope. I have no clue how it happened, or how I got to Goldenrod. It’s a Mystery, with a capital M.” I announced.

 

She clapped her hands together happily, and tilted her head to her side. She looked rather pleased with herself. “Great! Perhaps I should tell you what happened, since I was there at the time?”

 

Now _I_ was the one leaning in for answers. “Tell me.”

 

“It was an average evening. I was walking home from the Gym, and was passing down an alley when I saw it. A flash of light a bunch of meters above me, and a few feet in front. Then you fell, silently, in such a way that when you hit the floor it was head first.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you understand? There was nobody else around to witness it, and I was looking directly at you when it happened. You appeared in a flash of light, then hit the ground head first.”

 

Her words were ridiculous. For a moment I just had to stop, and make sure I heard her right. “I appeared… in a _flash of light_?”

 

“Yes. You were not there before. You weren’t dropped from the roofs. One moment I was alone, the next you were falling to the floor. I hope you understand just how _silly_ this statement is?”

 

“Yes.” This was likely the most honest thing I’d said all day. “It sounds just… unbelievable. A flash of light. Really?”

 

She leaned back on her chair and kicked her legs out childishly. “Yup! Just poof! And it sure wasn’t a Teleport! I wouldn’t be dumb enough to believe it, had I not been there when it happened. Because that _is not normal_.”

 

_“Understatement of the century.”_ I thought to myself.

 

“So, considering you are now aware of how skeptical I am of the entire thing, despite being there, and considering you are just as skeptical, let me tell you the plain and bitter truth.”

 

With that, she took a deep breath, then with cold and unflinching eyes she told me what she thought was the absolute truth. “ _You do not exist here. This is not your world_ . You are, effectively, _Alien_.”

 

Once more, she had said something absolutely impossible, and yet once more I didn’t think she was lying. Her assessment of my non-existence legitimately seemed to be what she thought was the most likely answer.

 

“Here, look at these. I got these out for you, and can guarantee that no tampering has been done to them.” She scrambled for her handbag, and pulled out several books from its surprisingly spacious insides.

 

“Maps?” I asked, because before me were a pile of atlas’.

 

She nodded, and opened the first up to the opening map. The map of the world. It was alien, showing landmasses and continents unfamiliar to me. I opened my mouth to object, to claim she had forged it, but she was already flicking through it and stopping it on more random pages- showing how far too much effort had been put into making them for it to be an elaborate joke. Then she pulled open the next atlas, and showed me the same map, and continued to show me. She moved on, two more bulky books, two more authentic looking maps.

 

“This is not your world, Joseph, because the places you honestly claim to come from _do not appear on any map_ . You do not come from here, because _there are no records_ . Believe me when I say that if there _were_ records, I would have found them. Namely because I have an important role in managing this city, and I have friends in _many_ places. I used said contacts to search _other_ nations records for you. Again- they were not there.”

 

Finally, she repeated what she said before. This time, far more sadly. “Joseph, I am very sorry. I say this with the absolute certainty that comes from someone that has had a lot of time to think about it, and can find only one truth. _You do not exist here._ ”

 

For the first time, I actually found myself believing her. Truly believing it. That I wasn’t from this world. That I didn’t exist. That I was ultimately, alone.

**Ben POV**

 

“Well, it’s not in the best condition...this isn’t wonderful. Actually, as far as things go, this is pretty crap. Ugh.” I was talking about the plane I’d been asked to look at, of course.

 

Running my gloved hands over the rusted aluminium, I take out a notepad provided to me by my current host and start sketching in broad strokes. I’m not a good artist, but since they don’t seem to know what I’m doing I should get away with it. Hopefully…

 

Brushing the dust off the tail, I look on at the tail markings, “An M surrounded by a triangle? The fuck does that mean?”

 

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen something similar before. Whatever. If it’s that important, it’ll no doubt come to me. I hope. Well, if it doesn’t- I jot down the symbol just in case. I’ll look it up on the internet later.

 

“How’s it coming so far, genius?”

 

Hiding a nervous expression...keep a blank face, he’s like a dog, he can smell fear, I turn around to face Giovanni, stating, “Well, my preliminary assessment isn’t good. The damage is quite expansive and won’t be cheap. Most of the outer layer is fairly well preserved, but the internal rust prevents it from being airworthy. What’s the current going rate of aluminium?”

 

“Aluminium?”

 

Physically biting my tongue to prevent it from saying something that will get me killed, I get out, “Yes, aluminium. It’s the cheapest option. Steel is too heavy except for the armored parts, if these even has those.”

 

He raises an eyebrow, hopefully impressed, saying, “Well, when you have an idea of how much you need, let me know.”

 

As he walked away, I let out my breath and wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. Bullshitting a project this big is starting to get to me. And I’ve only been at this a couple hours.

 

Grabbing a crowbar from a pile, I yank a door open, with considerable effort I may add. I’m not the most physically inclined person.

 

Walking into the cockpit, I notice something odd, “Well, well, what have we here?”

 

I recoil in shock as I notice the two skeletons sitting in the seats, wearing flight suits. Military issue flight suits.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

This isn’t a passenger jet. This is a bomber.

 

Running down the main passage, I stop and catch my breath as I carefully walk into the bomb bay. Noticing the few bombs still in their racks, I step slowly. One wrong move, and I’ve fucked up for the last time. Who knows what time has done to these?

 

Okay, step one is to find out how bad this is. Logically, bombs would have a timed arming fuse, to make sure the crew can handle them safely before the drop. Again, logically. I’m still not sure which country this plane belonged to, and whether time down could have accidently messed up the mechanisms. And I have no way of assessing that.

 

“Today just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” I quip quietly.

 

I freeze mid step as my very movement displaces some of the dust. As it blows in my face, I slowly twist my head over, looking at the now further revealed symbol painted on the bomb. A yellow triangle, enclosed within was a symbol that looked rather like fan blades around a large dot.

 

Backing away from the danger, I mutter, “Ionizing radiation hazard? What would...Oh shit…”

 

Turning around, I bolt out of the bay and the aircraft in general. In a worst case scenario, it won’t help, but it does make me feel better about the situation.

 

“Anything interesting in there?”

 

One of the goons, shouldering an assault rifle of some fashion, struts over. Must be a high level goon if he feels he can strut. Noted. But if they don’t know what’s in their prize, I sure as hell ain’t gonna let them in on it. Well, not completely at any rate.

 

As I clamber up from where I fell on my knees, I hesitantly put out there, “The inside is...reasonably intact in its current position. The level of damage though….honestly it’d probably be cheaper and faster to just build a new one. Let me put it this way, in its current condition, it’s stable and thus mostly safe. However, if I start mucking around with it in an attempt to make it all work again, it could end badly for everyone involved.”

 

The goon just smiles before his massive hand wraps around my shoulder and he steers me away from the plane, saying, “I see. Well, let’s go give the boss the rundown then.”

 

What I wouldn’t give for a danger sixth sense right now. Because something about this feels...I dunno...off? Giovanni has been nothing but a kind benefactor, relatively speaking, going far and beyond to help me, even if he wanted something in return. Probably just nerves from seeing the bombs.

 

Giovanni only gives me a similar smile, which just makes the feeling in my gut worse, as he states, “So there’s nothing further to be done with it?”

 

Musing my options, I offer a casual shrug, “It’s practically unsalvageable. It would be more efficient to simply build a new one. If you really want to keep working it, I certainly can. However, we really should move the bombs out. They’re somewhat of a...hazard, currently.”

 

“Bombs?”

 

Okay, no snark here. Bad me for even thinking it. Except for that minor incident with ‘comply-or-die’ blackmail, he’s been nothing but helpful. “Mmm, yeah. It’s a bomber, not a passenger plane. Much more complicated. Frankly, since it’s military hardware, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it working again. To many things I just don’t know because the information was classified.”

 

As Giovanni simply nods, and I’m honestly not sure how to interpret that, he questions, “And could you build one? Or at least design it?”

 

Fuck. He’s calling my bluff. How to...how to...ah, that may work, “Unfortunately, design had never been much of an interest of mine. There would be others who could do a better job by far.”

 

He looks down, nodding, “I see. I see. Most unfortunate. Well, alright. I suppose I’ll trust you on this.”

 

Eh? I smell bullshit. A man like Giovanni doesn’t trust. I’m not sure he even knows the words exists. So what’s his game?

 

He smiles and continues, “Fortunately for us both, I am not a man to waste resources. So, if you say you’re not much of an engineer, where would you put your talents?”

 

This. This I can work with.

**Joseph POV**

 

My life had been changed by a simple revelation. My future, oh so carefully planned, was shattered. My understanding of the world, oh so broken. All my knowledge, my experiences and my connections- they seemed meaningless.

 

Because I was in a world that was not my own.

 

It honestly seemed more like the kind of plot premise that would happen in a cheesy fanfiction or to kick start a fantasy story, as opposed to something that could realistically happen.

 

And yet, it had apparently happened to me. With all the real world problems naturally associated with such.

 

This morning I woke up, feeling that I knew exactly how my world worked. Now, I felt like I didn’t know anything.

 

Luckily for me, the pink haired girl seemed to be perfectly happy to sit there in silence while I digested her words and came to terms with my new world view.

 

_“I am Joseph White. I was born in London, grew up in Yorkshire, and study Computer Science at degree level… and ultimately, it is all irrelevant, because I am now in a world where all these things are meaningless.”_

 

“This sucks.” I eventually concluded.

 

My companion giggled at my deadpan delivery. “I’m sure it does.” She said softly. “I’m not sure how I’d react to find out that one day I went to sleep, only to wake up in a completely different world. You are likely taking it better than I would. I know _I_ would scream.”

 

“I’m sure you would.” I snorted, but ultimately my sadness overcame my temporary amusement. “So, what happens now?” I asked. “I’m a smart guy. I am not one to ignore the facts once they are given to me. As much as I… well, find it hard to believe, for the moment I am willing to believe this is not my world. I can accept this, until it’s otherwise proven that you are lying and that this is all as sick practical joke.”

 

“Mmmm!” She nodded her head in agreement. “That’s _probably_ a smart mindset to have, y’know? True, until proven otherwise.”

 

“But since the ‘fallen into another world’ thing is likely true, that means all the rest is true too. Namely, the fact that since I don’t exist, I am and have nothing.” My old nighttime fears from my sleepless rest came back to me, all the more real and horrifying.

 

Back then I had been scared, because without identification or physical records how could I prove my identity, take out money from my savings, be able to pay my bill or get future medical help if I needed it, get help to return home, and all the other one-hundred-and-one problems one has when they are effectively an illegal immigrant.

 

All these problems were now reality, with one extra nail just to hammer it all into my coffin. Now, there wasn’t any chance of everything being cleared up. I couldn’t somehow find a way to prove my identity, or stumble my way back to my home country. Now I was stuck in a foreign country, in a foreign world, with absolutely nothing to help me.

 

It was… a scary thought. _“What do I do when I get out of hospital? I effectively become homeless, and unable to help myself escape it. No qualifications, so no chance to get a job or at least prove I have the ability to do it. I’m just… stuck.”_

 

“You have a really sad look on your face.” noted Pinky.

 

“Well wouldn’t you have one if you found out you’d woken up in the hospital in another universe, had nothing but the clothes on your back, will likely become homeless and die in a gutter when you leave the hospital, and will _never see any of your friends or family again._ ”

 

“Awww, shucks.” Pinky sighed. “Well, looks like I’m about as good at ‘breaking the news gently’ as I expected I would.”  


“Don’t worry too much about it.” I waved her off. “It’s not your fault I’m too stubborn to figure it out myself, and too smart to _not_ recognise all the obvious problems that come with it. I can’t blame you either. It’s not like _you_ are the one responsible for me being in this mess.”

 

The sad look on Pinky’s look increased. “Jeez, now I feel _really_ bad about the fact that I was going to use your hospital debt to me to basically take possession of your ass and blackmail you for the rest of your life.”

 

… suddenly, the sensation of sadness and apologeticness that infused the room dispersed, and was instead replaced my sudden desire to kick her in the ass. Or the face. I wasn’t picky “Thanks.”

 

“Mou! I said I felt bad about it.” She pouted and stomped her foot. “Still, you’ve definitely persuaded me to be nicer about this whole situation. You… don’t deserve to be here either. So, I think it’s only right that I help you out too, eh, especially since I want you.”

 

“Wat.”

 

“I want you… to help me.” She clarified upon seeing my deadpan look. “The point is, you might be utterly alone and will never see your friends or family ever again… but _I’ll_ be your friend.”

 

_“... that doesn’t make me feel much better.”_ I said as much, aloud.

 

She sniggered. “Anyway, since you seem to be a nice guy and stuff, I’m gonna be your friend. Because you sure as hell need one in a situation like this.”

 

Pinky was blunt as hell… but, it would also be kind of nice to have a friend to help me make it through this. Even if she was likely to extort the hell out of me for my medical bill. “Sure. I’m not gonna turn away anyone that’s offering… so, friend?”

 

“Yup! Friend.” Pinky stretched out her hand, and offered it to me. “Hi, my name is Whitney, and I’m sort of in charge of everything here.”

 

I took Whitney’s hand and smiled. “Hi, my name is Joseph, and I’m sort of a hobo from another dimension.”

 

As we held hands, for a moment, I thought that maybe things would turn out okay.

 

Naturally this feeling was broken into a million tiny pieces after we parted and Whitney opened her big fat gob.

 

“Well, now that the sappy stuff is over, perhaps we should get back to the whole ‘I own your ass for life’ thing!”

 

“... you say that with far too much enthusiasm.”

 

“Eh, I’m excited. Cut a gal a break.” She defended herself. “Besides which, even if we’re friends, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay me back. After all, I’m doing a lot for you.”

 

“The hospital bill _is_ very helpful.”  


She shook her head. “Not just that. I’m sure you remembered what I said at the very beginning of our conversation. ‘Nope. But by the end of today, you will be very glad to know me’. Footing the bill is hardly the only thing I’m doing.”

 

I raised an eyebrow.

 

She waved her hands ambiguously. “Geez. Okay, I’ll cut to the chase already. I’m effectively the Big Cheese here, you see? And I know _lots_ of people. My biggest contribution to you is that I am going to _get your name into the system_.”

 

My jaw dropped open. With a giggle, she flicked my chin to shut it.

 

“Yup. I am just that awesome. Your biggest problem is that you don’t exist. You can’t get a legal job, get into education, or even set up a bank account without proof of identity. Without it, you can do _nothing_. But being the great and benevolent lady that I am, I’ll set you up with a brand new identity. As far as anyone will ever know, you won’t be ‘Joseph, that Alien Hobo’ but ‘Joseph, that guy who always was there’.”

 

“If I wasn’t in a hospital bed right now, I’d hug you so hard right now. Because you are the best.” I announced. Technically I could get out of bed, I just wasn’t desperate enough to make an enemy out of Nurse Joy.

 

She preened under the implied compliment, “Eh, I get the jist. Praise me more!”

 

All I offered was a roll of the eyes and a smirk. Still, what she was offering was great. Even if I still had no qualifications, no money and no home, if she gave me an identity I might be able to realistically survive in this world. I could find work, and maybe pull myself up to a level of living I would be happy with.

 

I could effectively have the chance to make a new chance at happiness in this world. So while I wouldn’t meaninglessly babble my gratitude, it didn’t change just how thankful I was. And Whitney, despite looking a bit like a ditz, was apparently sharp enough to become a ‘big cheese’. She knew I was grateful.

 

“Really though… I think you come up out the best in this deal.” Whitney eventually stated. “All I want from you in return for all this is two things. Firstly, if I ever need your help or to use you, I expect you to damn well drop everything and help me. And secondly…”

 

“Secondly?” I gestured for her to continue.

 

She took a deep breath, and gave me her final condition. “Please, become a Tamer for me and look after my sister.”


End file.
